


Lonely Autumns

by Luzrein



Category: Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Fluff, Immortality, M/M, One Shot, Requited Love, perfectworldshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 20:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2401883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzrein/pseuds/Luzrein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First Perfectworldshipping fic and I only got into it this morning around 2am. o;<br/>Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Lonely Autumns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrMundy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMundy/gifts).



> First Perfectworldshipping fic and I only got into it this morning around 2am. o;  
> Enjoy.

Maybe it was the way he reminded Augustine of mysterious sunsets; or perhaps it was the way he always smelled of spice and cinnamon, bringing back memories of autumns spent alone. Has he always felt this way? This person; a fiery, stubborn man with hair like a lion and a heart to match. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was his hidden loneliness, but Sycamore looked. He looked for eons, this man could have no ending. A life with him seems like it would never end. His hand is right there and all Sycamore has to do is reach out for him. If he didn't hold onto him now, this man would be out of his grasp forever-- So why... why is it so hard? 

Augustine held his hand to his chest, eyebrows furrowed in perplexed frustration. It would be so much easier to take his hand if he'd just return the gaze. 'Come on, Lysandre...' Sycamore urged silently in his mind. 'Turn around.' 

Who was he kidding? Lysandre was a passionate man whose dreams were beyond any of Sycamore's wildest imaginations. They were on completely different levels and yet he wished they could finally see eye to eye. At least once. Just once.

Lysandre's stance shifted and Sycamore jolted to attention. What was he so anxious for? What exactly was he waiting for? As Lysandre slowly turned to face the professor, Augustine's heartbeat quickened, nearing escape. 'Yes, just look this way once,' Professor encouraged in his thoughts. Sycamore's determined expression met with Lysandre's pained expression.

"What is it?" Sycamore blurted out, concerned something may be bothering his...

There were a few moments of silence following the professor's question and it filled him with worry. "Lysandre? What is on your mind, mon ami?" His voice seemed small against the aura that Lysandre was giving off, but the atmosphere changed as he turned to give Sycamore his full attention before speaking.

"Ah, Sycamore..." he started, speaking as if his voice was almost gone.

"O-oui?" Sycamore's voice didn't seem any louder than Lysandre's, his confidence shrinking as the seconds pass.

"Don't you think," Lysandre paused and turned his head to look at the sky through the window, sunset shining in and casting shadows against his face. "Don't you think this world deserves to be beautiful?"

"That's a strange question?" Augustine was certainly befuddled by such a sudden question. "The world is already beautiful, I think." The only response he got was a small grunt from the mysterious man he'd known only moments ago. Now, he wasn't so sure what Lysandre was thinking or where he's gone to. Sycamore took a few steps towards his... "What brought this on? What are you thinking?"

That sad expression was on Lysandre's face again. Even the shadows can't hide such an expression.. "Lysandre, mon ami... what is worrying you so?"

"Do you believe in immortality?" Lysandre faced Sycamore once again, this time taking a few steps towards the professor. Again with the weird questions?

"N-non," Augustine stuttered feeling a little wary. He took a subconscious step backwards. "I mean... Ah... What do you mean?"

Lysandre noticed the backpedaling and halted. He crossed his arms and drew a serious expression. "I mean, Augustine..." Sycamore thought his name sounded like velvet rolling off of Lysandre's tongue. "If I had the key to immortality..." Lysandre started walking towards Sycamore again until he was three feet in front of him. Augustine raised his brow in a most curious manner, arms tight at his sides. 

"If I had the key to immortality..." he started once again, extending out his hand to Sycamore, a soft expression taking place on Lysandre's features. "Would you join me?"

What?

"Would you live forever with me?"

What?!

Sycamore sputtered, shaking his head but he didn't back up.

"Augustine. I'm serious."

Sycamore was still extremely confused. His heart didn't know what a normal rate was. He had to find it in himself to swallow the lump in his throat. Immortality? Isn't that just a fantasy? A made up tale? Yet Lysandre had said it. He had said that he has the key. Or was it if? 

The hand that he wanted to hold was reaching out for him this time. He had looked at Sycamore with those eyes and Sycamore couldn't look away... those fiery eyes. A passionately determined gaze and it was on Augustine.

"J'ai besoin de vous, Augustine."

Those words. The words Augustine had longed to hear. They were finally here. He felt an overwhelming wave of emotion rush into him, his hand extending. Reaching. Sycamore could finally be with his friend; no-- his beloved whom he has loved since that time they met at the cafe. Those days they spent chatting away about anything and everything. Hours of his days spent with this man, this man who wants a beautiful world, this man who wants immortality and to share it with Sycamore.

Their fingers grazed each other and Lysandre clamped his hand around Sycamore's and pulled him close, hugging him to his chest. A hand on the back of Augustine's head and the other laced with his hand. Sycamore's nose was buried into the thick fur of Lysandre's jacket and that same spiced cinammon filled his senses. The silent loneliness fading, autumns soon to be spent with someone. The sunset had nearly disappeared behind the horizon. Sycamore closed his eyes to the last orange rays of the sun and held onto Lysandre like there would be no tomorrow, only today. Only now. Only this moment.

"J'ai besoin de vous, trop."


End file.
